


Shattered reflections.

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Lucifer (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Amenadiel is so done, Archangels as a family, BAMF Chloe Decker, Big Brother Amenadiel (Lucifer TV), Big Brother Michael, Big Sister Grace, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Chuck Shurley is God, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Demi-God meets Pagan God, Don't fuck with the Archangels, Fluff and Humor, Fragmented universes, Gabriel gets ducked, God Ships Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), God is genderfluid, Grace is so done with his stupid brothers, Grace ships Destiel, Hellhounds, I AM THE FLOOD- aka Mika is the most BAMF angel in history, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Jesus Chirst was a punk and said Anarchy, Lucifer has a headache, Lucifer's true name is Samael, Mika and Maze don't like each other, Mikhael and Samael are Darkness and Light in reflection of their parents, Nesting, Other, Protective Mazikeen (Lucifer TV), Raphael and Gabriel are Twins, Raphael is the favorite brother no matter the universe, Semi-good Dad Lucifer, So does Lucy, The Ineffable Plan (Good Omens), This is crazy, Uriel is a bitch no matter the universe, Vessels Sam and Dean, Wing Grooming, You Have Been Warned, they go drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:55:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24563458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A successful Apocalypse,A more caring God,Different universes, different stories.A second chance to do better.
Relationships: Amara & Chuck Shurley, Amenadiel & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Amenadiel & Michael, Angels & God (Good Omens), Angels & God (Supernatural), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Castiel & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, God/Mother of Angels | Charlotte Richards, Lucifer & Michael
Comments: 7
Kudos: 101





	1. Chapter 1

They have lost. 

As risible as it sounds, it is true. They have lost; the Apocalypse is here. Thousands of their brothers and sisters lie dead on the ground as Hell and Earth become one. The Darkness eats everything in its path. 

She laughs at their sorrow, she praises them mockingly for surviving this long. She wants them to see how everything they loved is gone in the name of the absent Deity that once claimed to be The Almighty. 

Lucifer has Grace in his arms, using his grace to protect their little sister, the last Gift their Father gave them, while Michael battles the shadows away. Gold drips from his sword, gold grips from his fingers, from his eyes and mouth. 

The collar sits heavily on his neck, when Gabriel died, the seal reappeared. Thus, sealing their fates. 

The Darkness howls in victory when she takes his black wings and _shreds_ them; Michael’s own scream suffocated on the nothing surrounding him. 

_Is this how Lucifer felt all this time ago?_ He wonders, _Is this what Falling feels?_

“Mika!” Grace’s voice shakes him and he opens his eyes, finding his siblings faces near his own. Lucifer is trying to get close to him at the same time he avoids the shadows, Grace is extending her hand and her eyes scream desperation. 

_Don’t give up! Please, Mika, don’t leave us again._ Grace prays to him, begging with all her being. 

Michael can only do one thing, he extends his own hand. Or tries, at least. He’s weak, dying, and his grace is leaving him fast. 

Their fingers touch; Grace grips his hand hard, desperate. In the same heartbeat an explosion of power happens; His own, Lucifer’s, both and neither at the same time. _Father’s._

Light and Darkness fight violently, terribly. It happens so fast and yet it feels like an eternity as their Father holds them tight and protects them of the fray. It’s been a long time since the last time their Father held them. 

Michael closed his eyes.

 **You won’t take my children,** God dictates, **Not now. Not ever.**


	2. Chapter 2

> (Supernatural) 

**Dean Winchester is alive!** Resounded so strong in Grace's head she moaned, who the fuck was the idiot that screamed using their _real voice?!_ Did they lose their manners or what? She was going to make Mika deck them so hard they would be crying ‘till the new millennium!

She opened her eyes after a long moment, her entire body was sore. One of the many disadvantages of being human; she was really fragile, unlike her angelic siblings. Now that many injured her these days, having two of the most powerful beings at her side ensured that. 

“Mika? Lucy?” She got up, hating the way her limbs trembled. “Where are you?” 

...She was alone. 

Oh, Father she was alone! Trapped in what looked like Earth, but obviously couldn’t be because Earth didn’t exist anymore; they had lost. And nothing survived the Darkness. Not Earth, not Hell, not even the Silver City. 

Her head hurt and her memories were fuzzy. Had— Had Father had saved them? 

Why? The Almighty had been gone for two thousands of years, why intervene now? Why after letting all the other ones die under the Darkness hand? 

Grace shook her head decisively, it was never good for one’s health question His Will. What she needed to do was to find her siblings and try to sort out whatever was this. 

In that same moment, a human stumbled from the destroyed store and their gazes connected; she saw Hell in his eyes and Heaven in his soul. A pale reflection of what Michael represented and stood for, pure and sinful without being anything but righteous. 

“A-Are you Dean Winchester?” She asked. 

The man blinked at her, “Why do you ask?” 

His confusion was written in all his face; his suspicion was written in all his body. He was ready to flee or to fight. Grace didn’t blame him, human souls are not meant to survive Hell. That he did… Well, it must have left marks on him. 

“I wish you no ill, my name is Grace.” She stated, raising her hands. “ And I can help you to understand what is going on.” 

“What do you mean?” He snarled defensively, narrowing his eyes. 

“Well, you just resurrected.” Grace said softly, “I know by experience it can be quite shaking, so maybe I can help you center yourself and answer some of your questions.”

(As this happened, Chuck got the ugly feeling that told him things were not going as he wanted them to be. Which was bad, because the only other time this had happened was when Samael changed his name to Lucifer and set Heaven on fire.

So, yeah, he was a little concerned when he went to cheek his book. 

It was blank. 

All the things he had written before this weren’t there anymore. His well crafted plan? Poof! Not existing. Gone. 

Chuck cursed out loud.) 

“Uh, what?” Dean was normally more brilliant than this, is just that nothing about the woman(?) in front of him made sense. Of course, his hunter instincts kicked in when Grace frowned at him and walked closer. “Whoah, back up!”

The woman obeyed, “Are you hurt somewhere? Does your head hurt?” She sounded sincere, something inside Dean’s heart hurt. She reminded him a little of how his mom used to look in the only picture his dad had. 

“How do I know you’re human?” He asked, ignoring his emotional turmoil as well as her questions. 

Grace made a face before bursting into laughter, she laughed so hard tears formed in her eyes; the question wasn’t actually funny, but she couldn’t help herself. It’s been a while since someone doubted her humanity. 

“Oh, I'm human.” She said, shaking her head once she was able to breath again. “But if you’re asking, I assume you have a way to see if I’m telling the truth? You can test me. I don’t mind.” 

Dean pursed his lips, he nodded and proceeded to use an exorcism. Nothing happened, so not a demon then. He nodded to himself and pointed to the ground as once would do with a disobedient puppy. “Don’t move. I need to make a call.” 

“I won’t,” She smiled warmly at him. 

Dean reminded her a lot of Mika, it made her want to stay at the boy’s side. So she decided she would until her brothers came looking for her. With some luck the angel who had rescued Dean would be able to tell her what the hell was going on. 

It must be important too, because one does not send a battalion against hell for a human soul. 

“Come on,” Dean returned, he was frowning. “We will be going to Bobby’s house.” 

Grace shrugged and started walking towards him, they found a car and Dean started it without the keys. Grace was impressed and a little worried, but got in without fuss, making Dean frown get deeper. 

“Are you a Hunter?” Dean asked once they were on the way. 

“I’m afraid not.” Grace answered with a smile, “But my family is very versed on the supernatural. I also can hear angels when they speak, that’s how I knew your name. One of them screamed you were alive.” 

“Angels?” Dean arched an eyebrow, he didn’t believe her. Grace pouted, “Yes, an angel's true voice shakes the Earth, I think it was what broke the windows of the store you were in.” 

Dean’s eyes went big, “That was an angel’s voice?” 

Grace nodded, “I guess they were also the one who rescued you from Hell.” 

“H-How do you—?”

“Oh, I can see it.” Grace grimaced at Dean’s wince. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” Dean lied, gripping the wheel tighter.

“If it makes you feel better, your soul is not tainted.” Grace continued, turning uncharastically grimm. “Whatever you have done in Hell doesn’t make you evil. You will be granted entrance to the Silver City when your time comes.” 

“How can you be so sure?” Dean asks in a little voice, he looks incredible young. 

“Your soul is one of the biggest ones I’ve seen,” Grace tells him sincerely, touching his shoulder. Under her hand, Cass’ grace sings to her in greeting. She blinks away the knowledge. 

Cassiel isn’t supposed to be on the Silver City. 

Just what is going on?

“T-Thanks.” Dean blushes and looks away. 

Grace beams at him, happy she was able to help him. 

The rest of the journey is silent, but it is a comfortable silence. It’s been a while since she spent time with another human and had forgotten for a while that her presence made some of them fall in love with her. 

She suspects Dean falls into those as he relax considerably around her, even without a proof that she was human and seemed to take her words at heart. 

In the past she used to feel guilty about it, it felt false and manipulative. Now, she knows that she only attracts good people to her and that the _failing in love_ part is just because she makes them feel at peace.

Bobby’s house is apparently a scrap-dumpster. 

“Stay in the car until I come for you.” Dean tells her using the same tone Lucy uses to warm her and Mika from doing something stupid. 

Grace crosses her heart. 

Once she’s alone in the car, she closes her eyes and concentrates. What she does is similar to astral projection but is most like sending her soul to the Silver City while her body stays on Earth, is dangerous and no one of her siblings like it. 

_She opened her eyes to find Jesus looking directly at her; Oh, shit._

_“Quite,” He says, looking a little spooked._

_Grace can’t blame him, there’s only supposed to be one of them and now they’re two. It would normally mean that something is deeply wrong._

_“I don't think I belong here.” Grace says slowly, examining all the things that don’t have sense. It seems like God put her in another universe._

_“But Father intended for you to be here anyways.” Jesus answers with a serene smile, “I can see his aura surrounding you, welcoming you.”_

She returns to Earth, gasping for air. It’s never a marvelous experience and she actually hates the feeling of the reaper’s hands on her being. She shakes them away with an apology for their Master, Death isn’t always in a good mood and she prefers to avoid problems as things are now. 

Dean has returned, she allows him to escort her into Bobby’s house. 

“I’m Grace,” She introduces herself, “It’s an honor to meet you.” 

The man throws water on her, she blinks. “Holy water?” 

“I’m Bobby.” The man harrumphs at her, “This idjit says you know what brought him back?”

“I do! It was an angel.” Grace beams at him. 

“Angels don’t exist.” 

“Well, if demons do. Angels must.” Grace argues, “Because Angels were here first and you can’t have Fallen without Angels. And furthermore, what other being could possibly bring Dean back? Demons are not known for letting their prey go.” 

The man glares at her, but she can see the consideration in his eyes. “There hasn’t been any Hunter that has seen an angel.” 

Grace shrugs. 

It’s never a good moment to tell humans that Angels are nothing like humanity imagines them and that most of them had never left the Silver City and aren’t bothered with humans beyond making sure the Order Of Things is going as it must. 

And she knows nothing about Hunters; just what can see intuit from the word itself and the fact Dean asked if she was human. 

“I think we should still look for Sammy, be sure that he didn’t make a deal.” Dean makes a face. 

Bobby nods. 

“Who’s Sammy?”

“My little brother.” 

“I knew you were an older brother!” Grace claps her hands, “You remind me a lot of mine, actually.” 

“I do?” 

“Yup. I'm sure Sammy is very lucky to have you.” Dean goes pink and it’s the most adorable thing she has ever seen. He turns away from her and mumbles something about tracking Sam’s phone. 

Grace turns towards Bobby, “Would you have something to drink?” 

“Vodka?” He offers, 

“Sounds good,” 

She needs the drink, because she’s not only in another universe. Her siblings are not here (otherwise they would have already found her) and things still don’t make sense, she needs to speak with Cass but she’s afraid of praying directly to him. 

Different universe, different rules.

Who would know what could happen? 

So keeping herself as nonthreatening as possible was the only option, meaning no miracles and no personal chats with the Archangels. 

“Thank you.” 

“So you just happened to be there when Dean was brought back?” Bobby asked, 

“I wouldn’t go around calling it fate,” Grace laughed, “But it is a big coincidence, right? Don’t worry Bobby, I have no desire to harm your child.” 

Bobby sputters. 

“It’s on your face.” Grace takes a sip of her drink, “Only a parent has that kind of love in their eyes.” 

“Are you a psychic?” Bobby frowns at her. 

“Close enough,” Grace lies with a sincere smile. 

They find Sam in the same city Dean resurrected, another coincidence in this long day. Grace doesn’t like it and Dean likes it less. He really acts like Mika in the way he squares his shoulder and looks determined to face whatever thing that tries to get on his way in his quest to find Sam. 

Grace wonders if Dean also dreams of War and Destruction. He probably does, Grace thinks sadly once they get in the car. The drive is silent, not as comfortable now that Bobby is with them and they’re all worried about Sam. 

Grace dozes on the back, trusting the hunters to keep her safe while she rests. She needs time to mourn the loss of her world and the many siblings that died at the Darkness' hand; she refuses to believe Mika and Lucy are dead. 

She thinks she would know if they were, 

being triples and all that. 

The direction they have is a motel. 

Grace’s inner Lucifer scrunch her nose at it. Lucy was never a fan of things like this, favoring luxuries and class above all things. 

An Imp opens the door; Grace's breath halts for a moment. 

She wasn’t expecting it. 

She keeps her attention on it during Sam and Dean’s fray, the Imp doesn’t seem to notice Grace’s holy nature as she's olympically ignored. 

“Who is she?” Sam asks once the Imp has left; his eyes are curious, there’s no malice in them. 

“She’s Grace,” Dean smiles as he says her name, “Grace, my little brother Sammy.”

“Hello, Sam.” Grace offers her hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

He shakes it while returning the smile, the moment their hands touch, Grace purifies the taint that covers his soul, banishing the Hell putrescence that the Imp generated on the most beautiful human soul Grace had encountered. 

If Dean reminded her of Mika, then Sam reminded her strongly of Lucy with how bright he shined. 

“She’s a psychic.” Bobby adds, “She says that an angel brought Dean back.” 

“Angels?” Sam looks at her with wonder at the idea of celestial beings existing. 

Dean rolls his eyes, “We’re not sure.”

“Well, only one way to know.” Grace says, “Sam, could you tell me if you made a deal?” 

“I tried.” Sam’s expression sours, “I tried everything I could think off. Opening the gates of Hell, making a deal. No one wanted to make a deal with me.” 

Grace sends a Dean a look, _see?_

Dean huffs, “We still don’t know if you’re right, Grace. There’s no records of Angels being real.”

Sam frowns at his brother, but nods. 

Grace crosses her arms, pouting. “Well, we can always ask.” 

“I have a friend we can ask, she’s the best psychic I know.” Intervenes Bobby, “She can confirm what was what brought you back. I will call her to see if she will receive us.” 

With that he leaves to make the call, leaving the three of them in the room. 

“So, Sam.” Grace smirks at the younger boy, “Are you also a lady killer?” 

Sam blushes, “Eh, not quite.”

Dean blinks at her, he has not flirted with her— Not because she isn’t hot, _she is._ But there’s also the familiar feeling she gaves him that makes his brain go _Eww_ at the notion of having sex with her. So, maybe are his good looks what tipped her? 

He smiles pleased at himself. 

Grace hums amused, “Maybe is the flannel.” 

Both brothers look offended at the joke, she laughs brightly and swats Dean’s hand away when he tries to ruffle her golden looks. Because she's _an adult woman, Dean._ But of course, as any other older brother, Dean ignores her protests, and does it anyway. 

By the time Bobby returns, Sam and Dean are trying to embarrass the other by sharing silly childhood memories. The elder hunter does not comment on it but he does give her a perplexed look that she does her best to ignore. 

She did notice, though. 

How easy it is to get familiar with them, how she feels happy and the future doesn’t seem so wrong when she's with them. 

She tells herself she’s only being nostalgic and nothing more. 

“Come Grace, meet my baby.” Dean pats the roof of an Impala and Grace’s inner Lucifer is in love, such a beauty! 

“For real?” She asks with big eyes, making an awed sound when Dean nods. “Oh my God, Dean. You have an 67 Impala? That’s so awesome!” 

Sam rolls his eyes. 

Dean puffs his chest proudly. 

“You two get in the car.” Bobby took Grace by the arm and guided her to the other car, he didn’t need this right now. Grace went with an amused laugh, Bobby was a good parent. Much better than her own at any rate. 

The boys were lucky to have him. 

Pamela is a little handsy to her taste but can see why the boys like her, she also finds her gorgeous and wouldn’t mind spending a night with her. Unfortunately, she seemed only interested in boys. 

Well, you can’t have everything. 

The invocation is very simple and to be sincere, Grace wasn’t expecting much (how could she? A human tracking an Angel’s grace? That was risible), so she went along with it. She frowned when Pamela said the name ‘Castiel’ and mentioned the being wanting her to stop. 

She immediately let’s go off Sam’s and Bobby’s hands but it's too late…

Pamela’s eyes burned from her skull with a flash of holy fire, she had seen a direct glimpse of Castiel’s true form. Grace stood there, horrified, for three long seconds until Pamela sobbed she couldn't see. 

“Move!” She pushed Dean away, cradling Pamela’s cheek with one hand and put the other over the black holes that once where the woman’s eyes. “Calm down, everything is going to be alright.” She promised, closing her eyes and started praying: “ _By the power the Creator behold in me, I heal you from the Earthly pains, giving you back the eyesight you lost by looking at his first creations. In the name of my Father, this I command.”_

It had been a long time she spoke enochian, it tasted like sulfur on her tongue. 

She removed her hand, Pamela looked right into her eyes. 

Grace let a relieved sigh. 

Bobby, Sam and Dean stared at her in varying degrees of horror and wonder. 

“What are you?” Sam asked, 

Grace stood up, a grimace adorning her face. Guess the cat was out of the bag, no way she was going to be able to keep it quiet after this. 

“Behold and be thankful for this is the Second Coming.”


	3. Chapter 3

> (Lucifer TV)

Mikhael opens his eyes in his nest in the Silver City. It takes a little while for the world to stop spinning and messing with his brain, it’s one of the downside effects of being transferred to another dimension.

As His Sword, Mikhael _knows_ about the other universes that were created after the first one shattered under the weight of the cosmic imbalance his own death brought. But knowing and experimenting are completely different things. 

The Michael of this universe is asleep, incorporeal and undamaged, as there’s no need for two of them. Furthermore, Mikhael is a lot more powerful and old. So he’s evidently the best choice for the job. 

He’s still on his human form; still trapped on a sixteen years _female_ body. He sighs tiredly. Is not that he dislikes it. After all, the three of them had the same face. But he’s the only one who can’t change his appearance at will and has been forced to keep the same look since they awaken their true natures. 

It’s unfair. 

But, well, his life has never been fair. 

He gets up, expanding his wings (Thank Father they’re back) and flies around the Silver City, taking in the differences to his own and making sure everything is going as it’s supposed to, he takes Gabriel’s and Raphael’s presences and goes to meet them. His siblings don’t seem to notice that something is wrong, they even comment on how his new looks are more flattering than the ones he had before. 

Huh, it must be because he looked like Lucifer. 

Mikhael takes full advantage of the no-linear-time politics Heaven has to spend time with his baby brothers before deciding to visit his wayward twin and his even more elusive older brother, Amenadiel. 

(God, while not very vocal, is still in heaven. She has opened her arms to accommodate her injured son, her amazing and loyal son, who she loves with all her heart. Mikhael is older and far more hurt than any of her children, including Lucifer, and she’s hoping that spending some time here can help him heal. 

She also has the hope that with his twin at his side, Lucifer will be far happier. Her little morningstar deserves it after spending so much time in Hell, but he’s stubborn and fights her on every step. Silly Child, like he could know better than Her.)

Mikhael goes directly to Los Angeles. 

It’s the first time he’s on American ground. He isn’t sure if he likes it, there’s just so much noise and so _many nasty humans._ Why in their Father’s name do they smell like that? Even the Fallen smell better! 

He growls at a preacher that bumps into him, the man yelps and backs against the wall. He’s crying and trembling, whispering broken apologies. 

Mikhael nods to himself, satisfied. 

He walks among the crowd, trying to reorient himself. The entire city has Lucifer’s mark on it, his grace claiming it as _his._ But looking closer, Mikhael can narrow it to three places. He thinks he will go to the club first. 

It’s getting late and his brother is probably there, whoring or whatever. 

He attracts some looks as he walks to the entrance, he’s not sure if for the age he appears or the way he’s dressed; Combat boots, red shirt with “The devil’s twin” written in black, chains on his dark trousers. a magnificent leather jacket and a heavy choker around his neck. 

“Hey, kid. You’re in the wrong place.” The man on the entrance tries to shoo him. 

Mikhael is not impressed. 

“Move.” He says, pushing (softly, gently) the man to the side so he can get in. He thinks he did good and Grace will have nothing to whine about. The man is alive and relatively unharmed, after all. 

The pub is exactly what one would expect from a place owned by the Devil himself. 

Mikhael likes it immediately. 

There’s a crowd on the dancing floor. He let’s the music draw him in, closes his eyes and starts dancing among the humans, ignoring the world around him. It’s been a while since he was able to enjoy himself like this and he intends to take advantage of the lack of Darkness in their lives. 

Passion is his thing as much as Desire is his twin’s, his presence in the pub makes the humans spark. Everyone is laughing and singing, drinking and dancing. All except one, his brother’s _pet_ is looking at him with a sneer. 

She’s intelligent enough to not get closer, though. 

Not long ago, Mikhael would have smitten her on principle, but Grace always said that he needed to be more mindful of what _Lucy wanted_ instead of doing what _he_ thought was best for them. 

So, to honor that, he was going to ask if Samael minded if he took the trash away before actually doing it. 

But for now, he would wait. 

After all, the night was young. 

He drank, smoked, kissed and laughed himself silly when humans tried to get him on their beds before sending them away. He could have gone on the entire night but all across the Earth time stopped and he was reminded why he was on the planet. 

Samael should have returned by now; his pet should have warned his twin of his presence. 

Amenadiel should also be here by now. His older brother did not take kindly to other people trying to take his victories from him, and he would certainly see Mikhael’s presence on Earth as a slap on his face. 

(Neither of his siblings were exactly brillant when it came to reading the room, so of course they would interpret his presence as hostile even when he was just visiting.) 

So, why wasn’t he trying to fight Mikhael off? 

Why use his power if he wasn’t fighting Samael?

A mystery, Mikhael decided. 

He walked directly to where the demon was, she snarled at him, hands going directly to her knives. 

“Don’t,” Mikhael said bored, “If you try, I will smite you right here.”

“Why haven’t you?” She asks defensively, backing against the wall as much as she was capable. 

“Samael hasn't said I can.” He answered somewhat irritated, he dislikes demons. “Now, tell me, Mazikeen of the Lilim. Where is my little brother?” 

“How would I know?” She said in a little voice; she can sense Mikhael is different from the other angels she has seen before. Because he’s the only one that makes her feel like _prey,_ a thing not even the Goddess of Creation could do. 

“Weren’t you created with the purpose of serving him?” Mikhael caresses mockingly the putrid flesh of her face. “You must know. So tell me, demon. Where is he?”

“He’s looking for his wings.” Mazikeen admitted. 

Mikahel hums thoughtfully, “What do you know about Amenadiel?”

Mazikeen chokes when the Archangel’s hand presses against her throat. Mikhael unlike his twin knows about lies and open manipulation, he can even smell it. This corrupt being had something to do with what was happening and he wanted to know what exactly was her part in it. 

You see, Mikhael likes Samael’s pure white wings. 

He was sad when his twin cut them off, but hoped he would see reason and keep them; Samael had. 

Amenadiel wouldn't ruin that. 

Mikahel extended his wings and took off. 

He had wanted this the way Grace would do it; the _best_ way, the _correct_ way. But it seemed that his brothers weren’t going to let him. 

So _his_ way _,_ was it. 

He landed heavily on the beach, wings extended and holy fire on his eyes. The spitting image of Heaven’s Prince, of God’s Sword. 

The reaction his siblings have are the ones he was expecting; that doesn’t mean it hurt any less to see it. 

His twin pales dramatically, cutting himself of whatever he was telling Amenadiel. He takes a step back and trips over his own wings. It’s sad and pitiful. But after Mikhael did the last time they saw each other is an understandable answer to his presence. 

The horror and hurt on Samael’s eyes made Mikhael heart crumble with agony, but he keeps himself together by pure will. He knows he can do better, he just needs time. The certainty that he will never hurt his brother like that is what helps him to keep the tears and apologies away. 

On the other hand, Amenadiel is frowning at him.

Their sibling is not happy to see him; he’s tense. Like preparing himself for a fight. 

Mikhael's eyes brighten a little at the thought; he enjoys battle and it’s been a long time since he was able to get an opponent that didn’t drive him into boredom after a few seconds. 

He mentally smacks himself almost immediately, that can wait. He has more important thing to focus on right now. 

“Michael,” Amenadiel says, “Why are you here, brother?” 

“I wanted to see Samael’s new life.” Mikhael answered sincerely, “I already visited his club and found it very entertaining.”

Samael makes a choked sound. 

Amenadiel’s frown gets heavier, he extends his wings, hiding Samael from Mikhael’s view, as he gently pokes Mikhael’s grace with his own. Of all their brothers, he’s the first one to notice that something is not quite alright. 

Is too much— The genuine concern and affection of the brother he had missed so much, Mikhael closes his eyes and allows himself a moment of vulnerability. 

Amenadiel makes a distressed sound and he’s hugging his little brother the next second, he does not understand what he saw. But he knows that whatever that was, it had left scars on Michael that not even their Father would be able to heal. 

“I missed you so much,” Mikhael says, crying all over his brother’s silk shirt, while his grace sings a litany of pitiful: “ _Please don’t go, please don’t leave me. I will be good. I can be good. Please, don’t leave us again.”_ Over and over, like he’s unable to stop. 

“Shh, shh, little prince.” Amenadiel says, “Everything is going to be alright.” 

But even to him, the words sound like a lie. 

Lucifer, on the other hand, is quite at loss. You see, this is the last thing he expected when he saw his twin land on the beach. 

He expected holy wrath; destruction and misery brought by the same being that had pushed him off Heaven and sent him crashing into Hell. Not _this._ Not the tears and the incredible human emotions Michael was showing. 

It’s terrifying. 

He understands why Amenadiel has gone all ‘Big Brother’ and is actually quite thankful for it, because right now he is unable to cope with this bullshit. 

His plans to burn his wings and slap his brother’s face were now forgotten and now he’s facing a genuinely and deep concern for his twin. Because Michael called him _Samael._

Had any other sibling done it, he would have resent it. It was a mockery, for he was not Samael, the Light bringer. Not anymore. _Never Again._ He was now Lucifer, The Devil and Evil Incarnate. 

But Michael had been the one to twist his chosen name and made it synonym of _everything that was wrong in the Silver City._ His twin never would call him ‘Samael’, not even if he was ordered by the Almighty Himself. 

Something was _wrong._

Terrible wrong. 

He met Amenadiel’s gaze and gulped down the fear of having these two on his home generated on him. 

“Let’s go to my place.” He said, because what was there to say but that? 

They certainly could go back to Heaven but they all knew that it would end badly if they did. Their brother was the ruler of the Silver City, having the Host to see how fucked their leader was would send them into hysterics now that their Father refused to speak to them. 

And a heavenly Host in hysterics was not a sight either of them wanted to see ever again. 

Amenadiel nodded. 

“Can you fly?” He asked at the still sobbing Archangel; Mikahel took offence into that and used his wings to swat his brother’s shoulder. Amenadiel chuckled. “I will take Luci, follow me. Alright?” 

Mikhael hummed an affirmative, taking a step back. 

Amenadiel offered his arm to Lucifer, who rolled his eyes, and hugged the elder Archangel. He was not going to be carried around like a damsel, thank you very much. 

They took off. 

Mikhael directed his eyes to the abandoned wings, really, his sibling could be dumb as fuck some times. He touched the feathers wistfully, before forcing the grace on them to bond with his and tuck the wings on his own pocket dimension. They would be safe there. 

Then, he also took off. 

Tracking Amenadiel to the same building the club was in, but appearing in what looked like a department. 

Samael’s nest! He was invited to his twin nest, it’s a happy moment. 

He allows Amenediel to put him on the big bed and start covering him on sheets and pillows, doing his best to simulate an angelic nest. Mikhael wonders just how much did he see when he opened his mind, because he’s acting like Mikhael’s hurt.

He isn’t, Father took care of that.

(God shakes her head, Mika is as dense as any of her children. She’s glad Amenadiel is taking care of her poor fledgling, both twins need the affection but while Mikhael will pamper Lucifer, he will ignore his own needs like nobody business. Amenadiel will see that her little prince doesn’t burn himself that much,) 

“Now, I must ask.” Samael has a drink on his hands, he seems pained. “Why the change of looks?” 

Mikhael smile is downright evil as he says: “Why? You don’t like it?” 

He knows his twin hates it; Lucy did. But that’s actually why he likes his punk-rock style so much. This way no human will confuse them anymore and well, making Lucy rabid about his fashion decisions was just too much fun. 

Samael glares at him, knowing very well what he’s thinking. 

“You’re a bastard.” He hisses. 

Amenadiel swats him on the head, “Don’t be like that, Luci.”

Samael pouts, “Why don’t you tell _him_ that? 

Mikhael limits himself to maturely stick out his tongue. 

He’s been always Amenadiel’s favourite, mostly because they have similar personalities and Samael has been always a narcissistic bitch. Their older brother doesn’t really get why Samael is the way he is. 

(God remembers fondly the time Her first born told her and their Mother that Samael was broken. She had laughed so much at the bemused expression on their eldest. 

But of course, her wife hadn’t found it amusing.

She and The Goddess were always too different, it’s not actually a surprise their love never lasted long.) 

Mikhael on the other hand, understands. 

He understands perhaps a little too well, his twin is a hedonist. He’s also a selfish, arrogant bastard. Which is a terrible mix in an angelic being, because his brother doesn’t _mean wrong,_ but at the same time he’s unable to see the consequences of his own actions. 

Lucifer set the fucking Silver City on fire because he wanted _free will;_ to be able to say ‘No’ to their Father.

Mikhael understood back then and he understands now; not that it means he will not push him and fight him to death if necessary, because as much as he loves Samael, he loves their family more. Always has. 

“There, easy, brother.” Amenadiel strokes his hair when a lightning flashes, hitting the ground just outside the building. 

Michael blinks innocently at him. 

Amenadiel drowns a sigh; it seems like it wasn’t intentional. They must be careful with that. Of all of them, Michael is the most powerful one and his temperament can go from cero to one-hundred in the blink of an eye. 

And with Michael that means one thing: Devastation. 

“At least you didn’t kill Maze,” Lucifer allows begrudgingly; he had been worried for a moment there. Michael was known for smiting anything that irritated him, and unfortunately, demons entered into that category. 

And don’t get him wrong, Maze is badass. She’s Hell's best torturer, but Michael is Heaven’s, and honestly? He would bet all he has on his twin. Michael has never once lost a battle in his life. 

“Oh, yeah.” His twin says, turning to him. “I was meaning to ask if you would mind if I did, she smells like sulfur.” 

Lucifer chokes on his drink. 

Amenadiel pauses on his fuzzing. 

They share an horrified look; this is really, really wrong. 

“Please don’t,” Lucifer coughs. 

Michael sighs disappointedly. 

Amenadiel is this close to dragging Michael to heaven and start screaming for help! Maybe Raphael could help him. 

“I don’t need Raphael’s help, brother.” Mikhael rolled his eyes, his brother’s grace is fluttering like a hummingbird in his worry. It’s almost like he’s screaming his thoughts into his ears. “I already spent some time with him and Gabriel.” 

Amenadiel coughs, embarrassed. 

“How are they?” Lucifer can help himself. 

“They’re good, actually.” His twin answers with a soft smile, “Gabe is helping with the garrisons and Raph is doing his best to expand the universe.” _They’re both happy and doing what they want._

“I see,” Lucifer is glad. 

“And he didn’t seem to think something was off?” Amenadiel arched an eyebrow. 

Michael shook his head, “He only said he liked my new looks.”

Lucifer harrumps, offended. 

Amenadiel frowns, it just doesn’t make sense. 

“Huh...Didn’t you mention you wanted to see ‘Luci’s new life’?” Amenadiel asks, still thinking about the reasons behind Michael’s behaviour. 

“Yes. I don’t think Father wants him back on hell, you know.” Michael says airhedly, ignoring how his words shatter his brother’s worlds. “So He must intend for him to stay here on Earth. And I haven’t been on Earth for a while, so I told myself, why not? Also, I missed you, brother.” 

The last part was directed to Amenadiel, who was looking at Michael like he was crazy, because there wasn’t a way their Father wouldn’t want Lucifer back in Hell, right? But then, Michael is His Sword. 

If God intended for Lucifer to go back, then this reunion would have gone differently. 

He’s unsure and he doesn’t like it. 

“How could you know this?” He insisted, “Father hasn’t talked to us in millennia.” 

“Have you spoken to Him?” Lucifer asked curiously, leaning forward. 

Mikhael made a face, “No.” 

Both of his brothers deflated. 

“But he did heal me and allowed me to come here, so I’m quite sure that I’m right.” He mumbled defiantly; He knew he wasn’t wrong, but couldn’t actually explain why he was so certain. 

“Heal you?” Lucifer narrows his eyes, “Heal what, Michael?” 

Mikhael refused to answer. 

“Michael.” The Devil hisses, “Heal _what?_ ” 

“My wings.” Mikhael sneers, “Father put my wings back in place.” 

Amenadiel sees a complete darkness, hears a mocking laugh and sees Michael fall, his back bleeding gold. 

“ _Mother_ **_ripped off_** _your wings?”_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good Omens is a special universe, so I'm only going to show you guys this for now. I will be focusing more on Supernatural and Lucifer for the first half, but I hope you can still enjoy it!

> (Good Omens)

__

_ It’s time,  _ God thought with a smile,  _ it’s finally here.  _

Her little Mornigstar, her favorite son, Samael. He was finally here. And so, her Ineffable Plan could finally come to a conclusion. Crowley and Aziraphale had done their part on it, ensuring Earth would survive and healing a little of the rift between Heaven and Hell, but Samael would be the one to bring all of it together. 

She would have her family all together once again. 

She barely could wait. 

__

* * *

__

Lucifer crashed into a bookshelf. Then, high-pitched yelled as said bookshelf fell down on him and he was hit by an uncanny quantity of books right in the face.

“Oh, dear, are you alright?” A soft voice said while helping to get the bookshelf off him. 

“I’m fine,” Lucifer said, sitting on the floor with a motherfucking headache. Who the fuck needed so many books?! And why in Heaven’s sake Father yeeted him into the next existential plane, anyway? 

He had been a  _ good little archangel  _ in the past years, he even worked hard to keep Hell and the Fallen in cheek. Well, he mostly did it for Grace. But it should count! 

“Fuck!” Hissed a familiar voice, making Lucifer open his eyes. 

Lucifer stared into a terrified pair of reptile eyes; his little brother was twisted from what once he had been, but still easily recognizable. Just  _ what?  _ Why was he like that? Had someone cursed him? But, wait, no. Raphael was a badass and could take care of anyone who dared to look at him wrong. 

_ “Sunshinesweetlove, what’s wrong?”  _ Hearing a pet name in Enochian was...weird. And it certainly didn’t help that it was directed to his baby brother. 

“B-Bossss.” Raphael hissed, still backed up against the wall, trembling and looking very close to tears. 

In a blink Lucifer had a  _ principality’s sword  _ pointed at him, in the next he had twisted it from the angel’s hold and pushed his enemy on his back, white wings popped into existence and he held the razor sharp tips of his feathers against the neck of the impetus angel. 

“ **How dare you?!”** Lucifer hisses; hellfire on his eyes and red dripping from his mouth. “ **I AM LUCIFER, THE KING OF HELL! And you will show some respect,** **_angel,_ ** **or you will die right here!”**

Raphael made a pitiful sound, “Please, please, don’t hurt him!” 

Lucifer growled threateningly at the fearful principality before letting him go, shaking himself (he disliked when his more demonic appearance took over) as the angel went to Raphael’s side, when he turned to face them, he was met with twin looks of suspicion and terror. 

(It hurt that Raphael would look at him like that.)

“I have no intentions on hurting anyone,” Lucifer huffed, somewhat irritated. “He’s the one who started it.” 

(Lucifer knows he’s not in his world anymore, he knows it because Rhaphael was dead on it; his baby brother was murdered on the front lines, being one of the first to fall into the Darkness embrace. 

He also has the watching feeling that announces Mikhael is not here. 

So, another world was it. 

He was really trying to ignore it all, truth be told. Mostly because he wasn’t ready to face the loss of his siblings, plus his twin and Grace.) 

“Then, why are you here?” The angel frowns, the harshness sounds odd on his voice, like he’s not used to it. 

“Well, blame The Almighty.” Lucifer grimaced, it was always Father and his ridicule games. He hoped the old man choked and died. 

“God put you here?” The angel blinked. 

“More like he yeeted me,” Lucifer bites under his voice, then sighs tiredly and continues, “Look, I think we started with the wrong foot. I’m Lucifer and I’m sorry for destroying your bookshelf. I will put it back?” He squinted at it, forcing it to return to normal. “Also, would you mind healing my head, little brother? Being tossed from another universe to this one is  _ killing _ me.”

The little angel tilted his head, “Thank you?” 

Raphael gaped at him. 

“Well?” Lucifer insisted, looking into Raphael’s eyes. 

His little brother gulped, looked to the angel, nodded curtly and walked until he stood in front of Lucifer. He puts his hand on Lucifer’s forehead and The Devil closes his eyes, Raphael does the proper and concentrates on using his grace to heal his not-Boss. 

Except it doesn’t work. 

At least, not how they were expecting it. 

Because fucking  _ Samael  _ purifies him with his grace the moment the healing stopped and now, the Fallen Angel is not a Fallen anymore, but a fucking Archangel!

Crowley yelps and punchs The Mornigstar square in the face, “What the Heav- the fuck did you do?!” 

“...That’s new.”  _ Fucking Samael  _ blinks inocently at him; he didn’t even flinched! The absolutely bastard. 

“ _ Sunshinesweetlove?”  _ Aziraphale asks confused and alarmed, touching his shoulder. Crowley blushed violently, “Uh, yeah, angel?” 

“Uh...you good?” Aziraphale tried. 

“No!” Crowley dissolved into tears and went for a hug. 

Lucifer stood there awkwardly while he saw the display of emotion. He didn't even mean it! He stared at his hand, did it work in reverse? Should he not touch anything in the possible near future? Probably. 

“...I’m sorry?” He tried. 

He was meet with a glare; Aziraphale was a fucking principality, a warrior, and as soft as he was, he was damm fucking scary when he wanted to be. It also reminded Lucifer of Grace and he shivered. 

A furious Grace was a terrifying Grace, a beast not even Mika wanted to face. 

“What am I supposed to do now?” Crowley sobbed, lamenting his luck and violently cursing Samael inside his head. 

“...What were you doing before I arrived?” Lucifer said, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like this has to change whatever you and our brother have here, you know.” 


	5. Chapter 5

> (Supernatural) 

  
  


“Behold and be thankful for this is the Second Coming.” Grace said with a sense of tiredness, she’s never liked what her presence on the world means. She likes even less how humans react when faced with divinity. 

She hopes...

“Jesus Cristh.” Pamela is the one who says it; she voices it like a fact. 

“Uh, yeah.” Grace winces, “But please, keep calling me Grace. Jesus brings not-so-fond memories to me.” 

_ Abandoned. Forgotten. Scapegoat. Tribute.  _

Pamela looks absolutely mortified, “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” Grace tells her with a smile, unable to hold it to her when the psychic had no way to know. “Anyway, I think we should leave. This is a conversation that needs drinks and possibly something stronger than anything there’s on the house.” 

It’s like Dean and Sam have forgotten how to work, they just stare at her. On the other hand, Bobby looks like he swallowed a lemon. He helps Pamela up, then shakes the boys and turns to face her with a judging gaze. 

“I didn’t lie.” Grace blurted before she could help herself. 

“Yeah, I see that.” Bobby rolled his eyes, “Not a psychic, but close. And a human being, yet not a normal one. You are very good to find a way to get away with that, huh?” 

“Uh, I learned from the prince of lies?” Grace coughed, blushing. Because it was true, she never said the whole truth anymore. Not if she could get away with riddles or half-trues, pretty much what Lucy did when he was feeling nasty. 

“Do you know how to drive?” Bobby asked while olympicaly ignoring her words, not surprising at all if she was being sincere: humans were always weird when it came to her younger sibling. 

She nodded. 

“Good, take one of them.” He signaled the still dumbfounded Winchester. “We are going to get that drink. And then, I expect some answers.” 

Grace nodded again. 

“Come on, Sam.” Grace took the younger Winchester by the arm, then turned to Pamela. “I don’t expect there to be any problems with your eyes, but you should go and see a doctor. Miracles are a funny thing and I prefer to be safe on this.”

Pamela nodded and thanked her for healing her; she seemed normal, but Grace knew better than to believe that. Humanity was not meant to face Divinity and most of the time, it just messed up their brains. 

Hopefully this time it won't be that bad. 

“You can ask,” Grace said, once they were in Bobby's car. 

“...you know?” 

Sam’s eyes were shadowed, fearful. 

“About the fact that you were sleeping with an Imp and said Imp tainted your soul? Yes, I do know.” Grace answered tiredly, “But you don’t have to worry about that. I cleaned it the moment we met. You’re not a bad person, Sam Winchester. You’re the owner of the most beautiful soul I’ve ever seen. So bright that it actually gets close to what Angelic grace looks like.” 

Her words were met with shock. 

Grace wanted to hit her head against the wheel. 

That’s precisely why he disliked showing who she was and mostly pretended to be the only normal one within their trio. People assumed Jesus would judge them and when she didn’t then things went ugly (if the people were a fanatic) or creepy (if they tried to impose their  _ gratitude  _ on her). 

“Uh, thanks?” Sam coughed, awkwardly. He was blushing red but it was a chastised shame that covered his body. 

“You’re welcome.” She said curtly. 

The rest of the ride was silent. And heavily uncomfortable, at least for Grace. She had liked how things were and was half-sacred that the Winchesters would make this a much bigger deal than it was: she was also worried about Cassiel. 

Or Castiel, if Pamela was right. 

Burning eyes was not a thing in her universe. Broken minds and manic behaviors, yes, but certainly not that. Otherwise, her mother’s would have been fried from the many times she saw Mikhael posing as Gabriel. 

Now, what other things were different?

They arrived at the bar with a few moments of difference. It was a dusty thing and Grace couldn’t help the grimace on her face as Dean asked for a table. 

“Water,” Grace tells the waiter, smirking at the surprised faces of the hunters. 

Dean smirks back, he seconds her order. 

Sam shakes his head and Bobby looks like the lemon just changed to a grapefruit with how sour his expression had become. Bear and Vodka, is what they respectively order. 

“Thank you, dear.” Grace takes the water with a smile, 

She turns to the hunter, taps Dean’s glas with her index and the drink turns a rich red; a little darker than any wine. She’s met with wonder and she chuckles before changing her own drink. 

“This is called ambrosia, yso you should drink it carefully Dean.” 

“Ambrosia?” Sam asks, “Like the drink of the Gods?” 

“Exactly!” Grace beams at him, “It’s heavy enough to make an archangel drunk so I don’t suggest drinking more than one per day.” 

All true. Though, it took galleons to put Mika and Lucy tipsy. It was also true that it took less to get her drunk and she could remember how wild the parties with her disciples got…

So, yeah, better safe than sorry. 

“This is amazing!” Dean says and he practically has stars in his eyes. 

“Idjit,” Bobby mutters under his breath, then glares at Grace. “I still need answers.”

“Uh. Right.” Grace grimaces, “Well, it’s a long story, so please try to not interrupt me. I will try to answer your questions once I’m done, ok?” 

They all nod.

Grace takes a deep breath, “I think the first thing you need to know is that the bible is trash. The entire fucking book is  _ wrong  _ after so many translations by people who didn’t know shit. So, please forget everything you know from it.” 

Her words were met by frowns, Grace did her best to ignore it. 

“My message is long lost,” She’s bitter about it, too. She had tried her best to educate humanity, to get them on the right path. It was all for nothing. “And that takes us to the second thing you need to know: Good and Evil are human concepts. They don’t exist in the Silver City, what does exist is the concepts of  _ tainted  _ and  _ righteous. _ What Father approves off and what he doesn’t. It’s a long and complicated spectrum too, so you shouldn’t worry about trying to understand it.” Grace laughs softly, “There’s no really a good way to act. Just...know that the three of you are  _ good people,  _ all of your souls are bright. You will be entering Heaven when your time comes.”

She smiles warmly at them, seeing the evident relief in all the men in the table. 

“Which takes us to the third thing you need to know, everything you think about God and His Angels is mistaken. God is omnipotent and omniscient, but he has little to no interest in this particular planet.” Cue to outraged noises, Grace rolled her eyes. “Come on, it’s not  _ that _ bad. Believe me, it’s actually something good. When he was paying attention things tended to end in  _ big rainy days  _ or  _ fire storms.  _ Or with me dying on a fucking wood cross to apease him.” 

Now, they look horrified. 

“...uh, are you guys alright?” Grace snapped her fingers, it seemed like she broke them. Fuck. And this was why she should keep her daddy issues to herself. 

It seemed like her inner Lucifer was a big loud today. 

“...uh, appease him?” Sam coughed, still looking a little pale. 

“Ah, yeah. Remember that thing with the devil in the desert? Well, it wasn’t Lucifer, but I did consort with the Fallen.” Grace’s tone soured. “Father wasn’t happy about it.” She shook her head and forced a bright smile, “Not that it was only that! Father also thought my time on Earth was not doing me any good and that I should go to the Silver City. He was right too, of course. Humanity doesn’t react well to Divinity, so it was only a matter of time before things got ugly for me.” 

“...so he killed you?” Dean looked like he wanted to puck. 

“Uh, no.” Grace said, “The Romans did. He just...didn’t stop it. And He said that if I wished mercy for Judas' mistake, then I should pay for it.” 

Her death had been just an ugly mess. Nothing like what the Bible said with the exception she hadn’t been upset about it, mostly he had been resigned. He knew he was going to die so he could go to the Silver City. The pain had been just a punishment for her mistakes. 

But all in all he had gotten far softer than the rest of his siblings would have for similar mistakes, pros of being the favorite or something like that. 

“That’s a bunch of balls.” Bobby said acidly. 

“It’s ok,” Grace says, taking a sip of her drink to disguise the taste of sulfur on her tongue as she stated: “Father is never wrong.” 


End file.
